Dadly Duty
by anti-viper
Summary: As they wander the wastes of a dead world together, Hunson finds solace in his surviving daughter. Yet, despite his best (and comically misguided) efforts, what solace Marceline can find in him remains to be seen. (One-shot meant to both juxtapose Simon and Hunson, and explore the latter; some comedy and tragedy present as well)


**Dadly Duty**

A red axe sliced through the night air, tossing a pale head high and spewing green goop all over the place. A senseless attack? Yes. Disgusting? Ohhhh yeah. And also: attempted father-daughter bonding.

"Whoo! Looks at all these melting mutants! Isn't this a great time?" Hunson's fanged smile fell at Marceline's persistent frown, a facial expression she had worn through most of their travels together. True, decimated cities crawling with disgusting atrocities and pouring out crippling radiation weren't the ideal places for a child to grow up, but she was a demon! She should be stoked!

He leaned against his axe casually, waiting for his adorable little spawn to voice her concern.

"Mutants?" She asked hesitantly, pressing her foot into the body of the now headless monster and wincing as more green gunk squirted out.

"Yeah! This bloke used to be human, but now? Jello!" The Lord of the Nightosphere bent backwards and began sipping up the mutant's juices, making sounds of squealing delight (despite the fact that it tasted like feet).

"Ugh! Dad!" Marceline muttered, shuddering, his attempt at humor failing. "And… were these things really human, once?"

Hunson was about to give a cheerful affirmative until he noticed her fallen face. "Ohhh… nah, I was just joking, silly!" He replied, kneeling and ruffling her thick black hair, its rough, dirty bunches espousing much undesirable muck onto his fingers.

"Dad, I miss Simon," Marceline whispered with melancholy for the umpteenth time, though a small smile appeared on her pale, scruffy face.

"I know you do honey, and we'll find him," Hunson kindly lied through his teeth. He was thankful to whomever this blue guy she had travelled with was, but wasn't about to hand his daughter back to him, let alone scour the apocalyptic wasteland for him. "But until then, you don't mind hanging out with dear old dad, huh?"

"Nah… I'm glad you came back," Marceline whispered, smiling even more, one of her cute, demonic fangs poking out of her mouth.

"Thatta girl!" He replied, lifting her up and slinging her onto his back. While some, including her own mother at times and most everyone within the Nightosphere who knew he had reared a child, had this notion that Hunson wasn't up for being a dad, the demon lord was enthralled with his little devil, and wanted her to live a happy life filled with destruction, love, screaming, and joy, just like he had.

And now that her mother was indeed gone (much to his own sadness), he knew that the Nightosphere would have to run itself for a little while, and that he had to take up his mantle as a father. Even if his child was probably a weeee bit terrified of him.

"You know, Marcy," He began as he leapt over a flaming car. "I came back because I love you, and wanted to see you raised correctly. Now, I'll be the first to admit that, while your mother and I loved each other very much, we didn't always see eye to eye. But I will do everything I can to bring you up right. Anything you need, any questions you want answered, let me know, kiddo."

"Okay, dad," Marceline replied after a moment, her thin but powerful arms tightening around his head in a hug. "I've been a bit afraid to ask… but, where did you come from? You don't look like mom, that's for sure, you big blue weirdo!" She giggled, and Hunson smiled widely, hoping she was loosening up.

"Well…" He began, and then suddenly realized that if she had issues with mutants that leaked goo, some of the dudes that inhabited his little hell-hole would probably be better saved for a later reveal. "Uh, Alaska."

"Can we go there?" She immediately asked, and with a gulp Hunson wondered if he perhaps should not have told her he would answer any inquiry she put forth.

"Nah, too cold," Hunson replied, glad that he hadn't needed to resort to back to back lies.

"And where do babies come from?" Marceline continued innocently, and at this the ruler of the Nightosphere bent over and nearly hacked up a lung. How had they gone from Alaska to babies?

"Er, the Stork?" He muttered, wincing as he felt tiny fingers wrap around his hair and pull.

"Mommy said that was a lie, and so did Simon! They both said they'd tell me when I'm old enough, and I'm already ten! I don't want it to happen accidentally." Marceline finished and glared at him accusingly for his lie. Despite being underdeveloped in some ways due to her lack of a consistent upbringing, in some ways Marceline was already much more mature than he had been at her age; her ability to get what she wanted was an example.

Hunson's first thought, which came with both relief and a hint of sadness, was that there was no way she was going to bear a child accidentally. He hadn't seen a human for the two months since he had spliced into the mortal plane and found her. And even if he had, radiation blew through sperm like he used to blow through whiskey in his college days.

The second was that lying again was not a smart idea, lest he wanted to get his hair (which was already getting to be a premium resource at this point, though apparently Abe knew a great toupee guy) torn out.

"Wellll… I guess it can't really hurt," Hunson concluded with a shrug, willing to engage in questionable parental behavior for his daughter's good favor. "You see, Marcy, when two people love each other very much… or, uh, when one person has a harem of succubi… well, if we're strictly talking about child-making, then I guess I can leave the succubi out."

"What's a succubi?" Marceline asked, and Hunson swallowed.

"Uh… they're… really nice… no, that's not the right word. Um. Really sexy helpers," Hunson corrected. "You see, the way you make babies is also pleasurable, so some people do it for fun, and not for the sake of having kids. There's a lot of slang for it, but the default word is 'sex'."

"Sex, huh?" Marceline murmured. "I remember reading that word in one of Simon's weird books. He wasn't too happy when he found out."

"Well, most people don't learn till they're a wee bit older," Her father replied, a gentler tug of his hair letting him know she wanted down. He obliged, gently placing her on the ground and offering a hand she took after a moment of hesitation.

"It's kind of like kissing with your genitals."

"…Genitals?" Marceline asked, and Hunson sighed. He didn't mind hitting the gist, but he wasn't about to explain every nook and cranny of reproduction to his ten-year-old kid.

"Tell you what… we'll find a book on it!" He said with a snap of his fingers after a moment of though, and Marceline cheered.

"Cool! You know, I want to have lots of babies!" Marceline shouted gleefully, Hunson hacking up his other lung at her words. "I'll name one Simon, and Hambo, and Dad, and—"

"Uh, naming one dad might be a little weird," Hunson muttered, wincing as her delighted face retreated far from dreams of the future and back into the smoldering ruin they waltzed through. "But you can do whatever you like, honey. You might change your mind through; kids can be a lot of work."

He continued to walk, whistling lightly to himself to try to subtly end the conversation, but after a moment realized his daughter was not following.

"…Am I a lot of work, dad?" Came her unsure and heart-tearing voice from behind him.

Hunson berated himself with a silent curse, searching for a response. As he stood still, memories flitted into his mind.

"_You'll never be there for her! Never care! I know you wanted me, but I can't let you touch my daughter, Hunson, as much as I love you. I can't let her become like you."_

"_She's so unsure… so afraid… you won't be able to come back until this world is finished, will you? As if you could stop something so chaotic. As if you would want to."_

"You know I would have stopped it for you. For both of you," He whispered, the past several years of pain, the only true pain he had ever felt, having done nothing to change his answer. A sudden gust of wind coated his body in ash and brought his feeble words to the memory of his love.

"What would you have stopped, dad?" Marceline asked, the tiny pit-pat of her worn shoes moving towards him drawing him back into paradise lost.

"This," He muttered, sweeping his hand around the ruined landscape. He looked down upon her, a small nod and bittersweet smile gracing her face. Of course she would understand; she was already smart as a whip. Just like her mother.

"And sometimes, Marcy, the greatest things in your life take the most work; and you only love them the more for it," He whispered, dropping onto his knees and coiling his arms around her. Was it true? He wanted it to be true.

"I love you, dad," His little monster whispered.

Hunson shook off his doubts, his own demons, and replied, "And I love you too, Marcy. Now what do you say we get some grub? I'm hungry, and Hambo looks a little peckish too!"

"Hehe, Hambo's a big fatty, aren't you Hambo!" Marceline replied playfully, squeezing her other companion with mirth. "And I'm down for fillin' my belleh, as long as it's not mutant jello."

"Yeah, I'm actually really regretting that food choice," Hunson said sheepishly, rubbing his gurgling gut, his daughter giggling. He couldn't help but feel happy; it seemed like things were finally looking up for them.

He stood up tall, his red eyes darting around the landscape, until they fell on a silver building which boasted what looked like a half destroyed hamburger for a sign. Whether it had been made that way, and was supposed to appear half-eaten, or had been eradicated in the war was impossible to determine.

"How about that diner over there?" He asked, figuring a good old fashion meal between him and his daughter would push them even closer. "Best fries in town, according to the sign."

* * *

_I thought, with the advent of Marcy and Simon (and the award for "Best Use Of The Cheers Theme Song" goes to…), it would be interested to pull out my head-canon of what Marcy and Hunson's travels were like. _

_I utterly convinced he cares about her deeply, but as shown here, not so sure he knows how to make that clear (at least in a way that doesn't mess her up). Also similar to Marcy and Simon, I tried to go for not so much of a twist ending, but one that punches you in the gut. Thanks for reading! _


End file.
